Occasionally, someone on fashion's lunatic fringe comes up with an idea so squealingly insane that one can only stand back and boggle in awe. So it is with Etat Libre d'Orange, a Parisian parfumier, and its attention-grabbing cologne Sécrétions Magnifiques. Should anybody be confused as to precisely which secretions the cologne is supposed to smell of, Etat Libre d'Orange's website handily illustrates it with a picture of a spurting penis and testicles, of the crudely drawn variety with which persons unknown frequently amend posters featuring James Blunt.

It's the answer to that awkward moment that gets played out year after year on Christmas morning: you unwrap the cologne, give it a try, then attempt to hide the disappointment. "Is there something wrong?" "It's just... couldn't you have found something that smelled a bit more like an ejaculating penis, Mum?"

"Like blood, sweat, sperm, saliva, Sécrétions Magnifiques is as real as an olfactory coitus that sends one into raptures," offers the accompanying blurb.

The photographer looked interested, as well he might - the last alternative fragrance we tried was Escentric Molecules, which was supposed to have a pheromonic effect on the opposite sex. He went home wearing some and now he's going to be a dad. We tried some. People could have fled no faster if I'd unzipped myself and sprayed my own magnificent secretions around the room. The smell was bizarre - rubbery, metallic, deeply unpleasant. It didn't send anyone into raptures, but it certainly sent them packing. Which, in a weird way, makes Sécrétions Magnifiques the ideal Christmas present, at least for anyone who wants the house to themself after Boxing Day.